


Sweet, Little Things

by cherry (ch3rryb)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: (aka a character study disguised as a story), (i know weird combination), (no not like THAT), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Avoidant Personality Disorder, Bad Parenting, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brotherhood of Steel (Fallout), Character Development, Character Study, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Morality, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Foreshadowing, Fucked Up, Game of Thrones References, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Inspired by Music, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Miscarriage, Mistaken Identity, Moral Bankruptcy, Moral Dilemmas, Morally Ambiguous Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Recreational Drug Use, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Underage Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-03 03:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16318346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ch3rryb/pseuds/cherry
Summary: Formerly called Our Pompeii.





	1. Eye For An Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to what was the first chapter of 'Our Pompeii', I've re-imagined and overhauled the book. This book will now become a book of drabbles, but I'm keeping up the first couple chapters for anyone who wants them. I'll upload the new 'Our Pompeii' in a few hours (as I'm writing this).

__ **❝The old law about an eye for an eye leaves everybody blind.❞ - Martin Luther King Jr.**

* * *

 

 **HEATHER**  didn’t love to kill. Each life she took, haunted her a little more, kept her awake for just a bit longer. Yet, when Heather saw Benny’s body – two bullets to the head from his own gun, Maria – she smiled. It must have looked terribly wretched, she could feel the skin around her lips contort til it started to hurt.   

Her mirth lasted a minute – if that – before agonising guilt washed over her. She'd heard tales from her time in the Vault, of dirty scavvers who smiled at the corpses of the men they killed. She felt dirty, even though she had bathed specifically to seduce Benny into his suite alone. Disgust washed over her, but she didn’t regret her action. 

Benny’s bodyguards proved easy pickings, she’d managed to put four bullets into the back of each of their heads before they could return the favour. As she walked out, she was surprised to see the Chairmen and gamblers continued to dance and chat and drink as if nothing happened. She shouldn’t have been that shocked, no-one here had any sense of loyalty, no-one on the Strip had any sense of loyalty; they would sooner slit their leader’s throats than they would drink beer with them.   

She walked past Swank, who gave a knowing nod. Before she had killed Benny, she had given him all the evidence she had to prove what Benny had done, not because of some overbearing sense of justice, but because she needed allies. It would’ve been stupid to waltz in and shoot Benny, Swank was his right-hand man and must have had some semblance of loyalty in him, it just wasn’t worth the bullets. 

As she exited, she was greeted by a golden-haired man dressed in a business suit and fedora. Normally, she would have mistaken him for a gambler and stepped around him, but, as she lifted her head, she saw it. His eyes – the fox’s eyes – she hadn’t seen them since she travelled to Nipton over two weeks ago, yet they still were the most piercing eyes she had ever seen.   

“Vale, courier,” He begins, his voice low as to not rouse any suspicion from his speaking of Latin. “I’ll keep this meeting short for your sake and mine. The great Caesar bestows onto you the honour of his Mark. With this you are guaranteed safe travel within all Legion-occupied lands. He summons you to Fortification Hill and I have requested that I escort you if you would let me.”  

She wanted nothing to do with the Legion, nor House, nor the NCR. They’d all use her as their ‘ _wild card_ ’, a pawn who could take the shape of whatever they wanted her as. She'd been that in the Vaults, she would not be that again. Still, if she wanted any hope of cleansing Vegas, she’d need to know what the three powerhouses was doing. Heather already had exclusive access to House, and the NCR’s ambassador wanted to speak to her; she was in an amazing, yet fragile position.   

“I accept, but I have to bathe first. Do you have a place for me to stay?” She said as she took the silver necklace from him. He could not hurt her, even if he was alone with her, Caesar’s Mark saw to that. If he broke his word, he would have a 9mm bullet in between his cruel eyes.   

The fox only nodded, before walking off to the Ultra-Luxe, leaving her to follow him. She'd never been in the Luxe before, whenever she walked past it, she felt the hairs on her neck prick. Rumours of cannibalism were never far from the place, and, although she felt a minor need to clear the place, she’d always refrained, knowing that she couldn’t take them out alone.  

Vulpes took her to a large bedroom after getting his key from the greeter, Mortimer, the man unsettling her deeply. The room was beautiful, though – almost as rich as her suite in the Lucky 38 – with white marbled walls and floors with every inch of grime and mildew scrubbed from it, leaving a pretty shine. The curtains were made with multiple layers of white voile and drawn shut and the king-sized bed was spotless with a mahogany frame and cream-coloured sheets.   

She skimmed over the lavish room, finding the mahogany door to the bathroom. Without another word, she walked over to the bathroom, opening the door and then locking it. There was no way she was leaving the door open whilst in the same room as a man who saw women as breeding bitches.   

The water was warm against her skin and she was, for once, thankful of the Strip’s alliance to the NCR which provided the Strip with the water of the Dam. First, she rubbed her thick, black curls with aloe vera scented shampoo. After washing it out, she coated her body with agave nectar and aloe vera soap, enjoying the sweet smell.   

 ** _For a brief second, she thought she was in the Vault again_**... 


	2. Nuclear Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Caesar's (highly dysfunctional) family, Heather sets out for the Fort, oblivious that she is being watched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have to be honest, I don't like this chapter, way too much telling and not showing. I'll probably edit it later, but it'll have to be a pretty big overhaul. Anyway, I hope you still manage to enjoy. Look out for Game of Thrones references, if you watch the show or read the books. Also, I'm pretty sure I messed up the locations so I apologise if I did, feel free to correct me.

**❝We don't choose if our family is dysfunctional or not, but it's our responsibility to rise above them if they are.❞ - ???**

* * *

**CARMEN**  walked calmly into the Legate's Camp. She had no cause for alarm, decked out in full centurion armour she'd found on a dead centurion, yet still her heart thumped loudly. If the plan failed, she had everything to lose. If the Legate didn't harm her, then she would be sent back to her father. 

No, she had already escaped the Legion once, she was free now and she would not be locked up like some damsel in the pre-War films. All she needed to do was to find her brothers, Acrisius and Actaeon, and leave. Their mother, Regina, would tell them from a young age that they would always be together. They were born together as triplets, Acrisius being first, then Carmen and then Actaeon, who was clutching Carmen's foot. She hadn't seen them since they told her they would be transferred to the Legate's camp. 

Their mother had begged their father to let them stay here for a while, to allow the triplets to be together for a short while. 

Their father, however, didn't see it that way, whilst Acrisius and Actaeon were sent to be trained as warriors like the thousands of other anonymous Legion soldiers, Carmen was trained to speak Latin, English, Italian and Spanish, to read and to write and to study historical scriptures and books as well as dancing and singing and embroidery and sewing. No doubt was she being groomed to be one of her father's general's wife, even as a young girl, she knew that and no matter how much her mother honeyed the situation, she would never forget that she was just a tool. Why was Caesar even surprised when she ran away at age nineteen? 

She knew he sent his frumentarii to scour the Mojave for any trace of her, though most hardly knew what she looked like, her having been hidden from the public eye. Not even his Legate knew what she looked like. There were times she wondered if her father was embarrassed by her. _Why should I care_? She had told herself, _I shouldn't care, I don't care_. 

Rubbing the thought from her mind angrily, she focused on trying to navigate the place. It was sprawling, with recruits, decani and centurions milling about, barking orders or carrying them out or eating and drinking. Carmen felt herself getting vertigo from the sudden intake of information. She moved to a more sparsely populated area, close to a path leading up to a cliff. Her eyes searched for her brothers, not being able to find them in the sea of faces. 

"Centurion Acrisius?" She didn't even realize the veteran decanus approaching her. "The Legate Lanius wishes to see you." 

Carmen gulped, but tried to stay calm. Acrisius and her were often mistaken for one another, even by their mother sometimes, with Acrisius having a certain 'girlish' appearance. It didn't help that this decanus certainly didn't know what she looked like. She wanted to reason with the decanus, to have the meeting rescheduled, but there was no 'rescheduling' with the Legate, from what she'd heard, the man was not one who you postponed. "Certainly," she tried to use her deepest voice without seeming comical. 

The decanus lead her up the steep hill to the cliff edge and then to the Legate's tent. Entering the tent, Carmen was stunned by the sight of the Legate, even with his back turned to her, she could still see the gleam of his golden armour against the candles in the tent. 

**CARMEN inhaled, wanting to be anywhere but here.**

* * *

**CAMERON** sat boredly, brushing her thumb over the oiled wood of her seat. If only she had pulled of her little 'Courier Three' stint, she'd kept it going for four months before being captured by Legion frumentarii. She'd even managed to get to the Strip, of course, that was her biggest mistake. She thought if she maybe got there, then the NCR would protect her against her family, protect her against the Legion. They didn't; turns out, bribing the right person with the right amount of caps could get you free reign wherever. 

Now, she wasn't allowed outside without being accompanied by praetorian guards and even going outside was rare. Her elder sister, Carmen, had yet to be found and, although they had escaped the Fort together and picked up the same courier job, they had quickly become separated upon delivering their packages. Cam was sure Caesar, their father, had purposefully sent less frumentarii after Carmen than her. He'd always shown clear favouritism towards Cam, even allowing her to keep the name her late mother gave to her, and only using her Legion-given name, _Diana_ , during formal events.

Cam never knew her mother, she died shortly after giving birth from an infection. From what people had told her, she was a smart, black-haired beauty, being able to speak multiple tribal languages and some Old World ones. They said Cam had taken after her, perhaps she had, perhaps they were only trying to earn her favour. Still, it did nothing to quell the everlasting guilt.

 ** _I killed my mother_** , she would think when she closed her eyes to sleep, _**if she had not not bled so heavily**_ , _**if she had not given birth to me, maybe she would still be alive**_. 

Regina - her stepmother - would tell her not to fret, that her mother would risk her life a thousand times if it meant Cameron could breathe for a second. That she was just that _kind_ of woman. That Cameron was becoming that kind of woman, that she should be proud. 

Nothing she or anyone did could ever stop her thoughts. Even when she was travelling the wastes, downing herself in booze until she couldn't think straight. Even as she verbally beat herself down. 

 **Even as she pressed the pressed the barrel of her gun against her head**. 

* * *

 **HEATHER** stepped out of the shower as quickly as possible, not wanting to relive the horror of the Vault ever again. She gathered her Stealth suit Mk II she acquired from the Big MT from her bag and stuffed the dress she was wearing into the dark depths of her bag. Quickly dressing and grabbing her bag, she unlocked the door and stepped out. 

Vulpes was sitting on the bed, writing in a leather-bound, worn book. She kept her own diary back at the Lucky 38, but never did she write in it so openly or looked at it so intently. _Maybe he was keeping some record of something_ , she thought. Heather tilted her head to the side and stared at him for a second or two, trying to see what he was doing. 

"Your efforts to spy on me are not appreciated, Courier." 

Heather stood, unsure of what to say before deciding to ignore the remark. She used her most stern, serious voice. "Are you ready to leave?" He closed the book, placed it inside some sort of suitcase, zipped it up and stood.

"We wouldn't want to keep our lord Caesar waiting, would we?" He smirked. _He's not my lord_ , Heather thought, _he's not even a lord_ , _megalomaniac whose crazed dreams went too far_ , _yes_ , _but 'lord'_ , _definitely not_.

She tightened the grip on her bag, imagining it was the Legion's neck.  _I am not going to enjoy travelling with him_ , she thought as they left the Strip. 

 **If only she knew who was travelling alongside them**.

* * *

 **ASH** watched as the two left the Strip. She followed them slowly, not wanting to attract too much attention from anyone. They were completely oblivious of her, the frumentarii concerned with this 'Heather' and Heather almost repulsed with the filth of Freeside. 

Heather was a 'wild card', the key to House, the NCR and now the Legion. Perhaps she was aware of the power she held, perhaps she didn't, but one thing was clear, she needed to be stripped of it. No-one deserved to hold that much authority, it would surely go to their head. Maybe Heather couldn't endure it, maybe she could, but it wasn't something Ash would risk. 

 **For the sake of the people, she would not risk it**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the NCR a little bit more corrupt to make siding with the Legion a *tiny* bit more believable. I also tried to make the chapter more about inner monologues and not action packed, the next one will be though. Oh, and I changed stuff up, so Courier Five will be going to the Divide, not Six, cause I already have her backstory planned out. 
> 
> For anyone wondering, yes, Ash's last line was purposefully cringy. Thankfully, she won't be thinking like that by the end of the next couple chapters.


End file.
